


My Wood Wailer Love

by Remix_Sakura



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gridania, M/M, Order of the Twin Adder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 22:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6489109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remix_Sakura/pseuds/Remix_Sakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their return to Gridania, it turns out Sanson and Guydelot <em>can</em> stand to be around each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Wood Wailer Love

**Author's Note:**

> Minor character ships FTW! Please do forgive my terrible attempts at poetry. First time I had to use a rhyming dictionary in a fic.

They never received many days off from their duties as soldiers of the Order of the Twin Adder. They were ever separated by their different divisions, and both seemed to be receiving harsher treatment from their superiors as of late — no doubt, in recompense for the supposed “vacation” they’d taken to chase after a legendary melody that hadn’t truly existed in the first place. 

When they could find a day, or even a few hours, when both of them could get away, it had been a struggle to agree on where they ought to go, and what they ought to do. Such is how, as had become their habit, they ended up simply finding a quiet, secluded spot outside the gates of Gridania, and spent their time simply sitting in each other’s company.

The evening was still early, the orange sunlight still shining through the forest canopy. The pair were seated adjacent to one another, yet had spoken few words. Sanson seemed to be lost in meditative reflection of a particular patch of leaves, while Guydelot idly strummed on his harp.

“Don’t you want to practice as well?” The bard asked. "After all that talk of wanting to acquire the power of song for yourself?"

Sanson turned to him and looked a tad defensive. “I may yet be traumatized from the last so-called ‘lesson' you tried to teach."

Guydelot scoffed. “It’s hardly my fault you’ve got no natural talent — and are too proud to work at it long enough to learn better."

“Maybe then… maybe later.” Sanson turned away again, apparently to study on a new patch of leaves.

With an unseen eye roll, Guydelot continued his improvisation, making up some melody or another as he went along. Here and there he would add words, take them out, change them, repeat them over and over, trying to find some combination that would harmonize well together. That would feel right. Ah, yes, this one would do.

_"My love is as fair as the Nymeia lily ♪_   
_My love is as strong as the river’s flow_ _♪_  
_My love is as sweet as wine laced with honey_ _♪_  
_Oh, my dear wood wailer love_ _♪_ _"_

It seemed to take Sanson several moments to realize he had sung anything at all.

“Hmmm… what song is that?"

Guydelot’s expression changed from a pleasant grin to a dropped jaw.

“Why, it’s an original, of course. Didn’t you hear me making it up just a few moments ago?"

Sanson shrugged, looking abashed. “I was a bit distracted."

“By what, watching the trees grow?” Matron’s mercy, Guydelot should have known something so subtle and graceful wouldn’t get through to this one. “So much for my attempts to compliment you."

“Huh? … What ever does that song have to do with me?"

With a deep sigh, and one last twitch of his eyebrow, Guydelot recited the melody once again, his tones notably harsher.

_"My love is as dense as a boulder in the stream_ _♪_  
_My love is as stiff as an oldgrowth tree_ _♪_  
_Yet still, he is the only one of whom I dream_ _♪_  
_Oh, my dear wood wailer love_ _♪_ _"_

Sanson narrowed his eyes for a few moments, then suddenly opened them wide and lowered them to the ground in shame. He felt his face grow flushed with embarrassment. Gods, he was always doing things like this… failing to notice the things that Guydelot really meant behind all those artful words.

Yet instead of growing angrier, Guydelot was holding a hand to his chin, and lifting the hyuran man's head up to stop his little bout of moping. The elezen was shaking his head, but otherwise smiling, amusedly, even warmly. 

_He’s already forgiven me, hasn’t he? This time and many times before. That I should be so lucky..._

“I… I’m sorry. Thank you. I’ve… no idea why you think I deserve such praises, but…"

“What can I say? I only sing that which is in my heart."

The bard had such a way with words. Sanson never knew what to say in reply. Luckily, it no longer mattered when Guydelot pulled him close with one arm and kissed him. Softly, warm, and long. The forest, the water, everything that had so captivated Sanson before, all seemed to fade away, until there was nothing but the two of them. Even time slipped away, neither of them knowing just how long they remained like that.

When they finally became aware of their surroundings again, the sky seemed to have grown dark out of nowhere, and the birds’ songs had shifted to those of the night.

“It’s getting late…” Sanson remarked, as his eyes became unlidded.

“Oh, how _very_ astute of an observation.” Guydelot found his eyes rolling yet again. “Well then, shall we go to my barracks, or yours?"


End file.
